Best Circumspect Poems
Confined within the steep banks of a narrow mind
is a cryptic river where men stumble in and go blind
They construct reinforced dams that hold them back
from accepting the candid truth; white is not black
Like the slow moving current of a trickling stream
their thoughts are clogged and clot like curdled cream
What chance do the recalcitrant ones have to accept
reality if they allow no vision of being circumspect
of taking fault and blame for having a closed mind?
These are the ignorant, the foolish ones aptly defined
as those destined to stagnate until they decompose
It's the subsequent end to the stubborn who oppose
a new premise or concept with which they don't agree
They rot inside prisons of conceit; a human tragedy
Categories:
circumspect, character,
Form:
Rhyme
Held unyielding in your narrow mind
is the ignorance which keeps you blind.
Building dams will only hold you back
from accepting that white is not black.
Like a slow moving, barricaded stream,
your thoughts clot like curdled cream.
Thin skin has need to slough rejection,
Your rigid stance in mirrored reflection.
Break open the dam across the estuary
that hinders your vision. It's necessary
to move in sync with malleable fluidity
instead of sputtering words of stupidity.
Shedding skin will allow you to breathe.
Release your potential from its sheathe.
Even a snake slithers out from its skin
to crawl from where it once had been.
Little is the chance you have to accept
new ideas if they are not circumspect
to the fault of having such a closed mind.
Throw off the veil that keeps you blind.
Don't become stagnant and decompose
by turning your back, continuing to oppose
any idea with which you just don't agree.
You'll drown in arrogance, acting so lordly.
Categories:
circumspect, how i feel,
Form:
Rhyme
Azure-accentuated ambiance awaits aspiring artists
Baby’s birth brings blessings, blowing boredom-blues
Cool calmness charms circumspect chefs to create cuisine cravings
Daybreak dos and don’ts discipline drivers from direction-dazzles
Enlightenment-exercise empowers engineers in their endeavors...
Fiery fluorescent fearlessness fuels firefighters’ faith-fortitude’s fervor
Glowing grace of God gears guardians for guiding governance
Hope highlights health-helpers’ handlings midst heightened heaviness
Illumined instructors inspire with their influence-iridescence
Justice-jubilation juxtaposed with jurisprudence-judgment joins jury...
Kaleidoscopic kindness-keys keep kinship’s knot kindling
Light’s luster leads liberation-lovers to lift the lamenting and lowly
Morning’s majestic magnificence moves mothers with mercies'* might
Nourishing nurses’ nurture and nature negates night’s negligence
Overwhelming opportunities open officials for output-optimization...
Peace-packed period pulls prayer-partners into Providence presence
Quality quotes quiet the querulous' qualms and quixotics' questions
Redolent reflections refocus reviewers against regretful reveries
Spiritual songs by soprano soloists shut silence-stillness
Triumphant thanksgiving tops tight timetable of tenacious teachers...
Ultimate urgency upholds undaunted umpires unto usefulness
Verses vanquish vanities vying against vision of the victors
Watchfulness warmth wakes the weary to welcome words of wisdom
X rays of ‘xpertise ‘xamination x-out ‘xpectations for a Xanadu
Yes-yells yearn for youth yielded yeah-yowls from yesterdays’ yets
Zion's zephyr zooms the zealously zestful to zenith of prize-zillions!!!
*Lamentations 3:22-23 It is of the LORD'S mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning:
great is thy faithfulness.
Abecedarian and alliteration forms
July 28, 2018
Edited on May 19, 2022
1st place, "ABCEDARIAN POEM" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger; judged on 6/4/2022.
Categories:
circumspect, appreciation, blessing, encouraging, faith,
Form:
Abecedarian
Spiritual injection,
soul to the bone marrow gene therapy
Regeneration revived me,
when grace was bestowed abundantly
Dipped my soul in the water,
emerged with a spark of godly desire
I wanted to be holy ...
be elevated higher
I felt the fire
as it began to burn within
The flames of purification
burned away all my sins
And the fire kept burning within
Melted away my stony heart,
reshaped it into a new spiritual organ
More generous,
more compassionate
More empathy,
more circumspect
What now burns within,
grows more intense everyday
My old desires all burning away
Embers of the past cremated into ash;
buried under the tree,
next to the leaves of all my ill-gotten cash
Resurrected bones born in the fire ---
I walk by faith on the water of troubles,
every blessing from above now doubled
What burns within ...
is a gift from the Everlasting Almighty
What burns within ...
birthed a new spirit that guides me rightly
What burns within ...
cleared away all my doubt and pain
What burns within ...
fallowed my soul to be born again
Categories:
circumspect, inspirational, spiritual, truth, wisdom,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
...inspired by 'Science-Fiction Cradlesong'
by C.S. Lewis
Were we to try for heaven,
by dust and stars be riven
to lust for foreign places
where we might find strange faces,
the cost could be pre-emptive,
marginalize incentive.
In tubes of strengthened metal,
to demonstrate our mettle,
at speeds defying gravity,
(for honour or depravity?)
unknown manifestations
might try and test our patience.
Distances beyond our ken,
regions never seen by men,
from earth's fair confines to the skies,
is this judicious? ...is it wise?
Black as ink and unappealing,
drear is this infinite ceiling!
Perhaps we should be circumspect,
think twice before we genuflect,
raise space to a divinity,
but worship what we sense and see,
what price landscapes, dales and hills?
Space may aggravate our ills.
Note: Lewis died in 1963, 6 years before man landed on the moon.
Categories:
circumspect, space
Form:
Rhyme
"Franklin, why do you want such a fat, ugly bird?
Are you getting senile, or just being absurd?"
"Clearly, Mr. Adams, you are not being a friend.
My dove, not the turkey, will win in the end.
Though Franklin's turkey may be our most native bird,
your eagle, as well, will not be the final word.
A sign of Peace is what we need,
to show other nations of what we heed."
"Are you nuts, Thomas, for saying such?
Only my turkey can represent what we need so much!"
"Have both of you gone so daft in the head,
not to see that my eagle should be the one instead?
It has power and majesty that our nation new,
can be ascribed to the birds advocated by you.
We want Peace, but must remember this war,
so how can we petition a dove to complete this chore?
As for the turkey, I know the pride it shows,
but I just can't get over that thing on its nose.
So my Eagle is the one without a ruse,
and the best bird for the Congress to choose.
It can show our intent for Peace with an olive branch,
is native as the turkey, with a prideful stance.
Freedom will come and be represented by
my Eagle's unlimited flight in the sky.
Ever watchful for both Peace and War,
and without the turkey's nasal sore."
"We both know, Thomas, that Adams is correct.
His bird is beyond the circumspect."
"Yes, Franklin, I have always known
that my dove and your turkey would not have flown."
"Then are we agreed, gentlemen, that we three as one,
my Eagle is the bird that has hatched and won?"
Just thinking about this conversation made me weak,
especially when I had to give it a tweak.
But the Eagle has represented us well,
both in Peace and War, as history will tell.
I have obviously voted with Adams on his choice,
It has given our country a singular voice.
It is strong, majestic, and watchful to be sure,
and stood the test of time with great enure.
One more thing I'll say about the symbol we branded,
What would we have thought if Armstrong had said, " The Turkey has landed"?
Categories:
circumspect, bird, history, humor, pride,
Form:
Couplet
I used to be a worker bee,
And as far as I could ever see,
Would never have the sunshine time,
To sing a song, to pen a rhyme.
I longed so for a day I would be free,
To paint a picture, to watch TV,
That day came with new ways to live,
Bones got stiff, mind like a sieve.
Adapting to the new me I didn’t expect,
My new found freedom was circumspect,
But having cyber friends all over the world,
Is so encouraging to this aging girl.
Categories:
circumspect, retirement,
Form:
Light Verse
Look at the stars, look at how they shine for you and everything you do - Coldplay - Yellow
Do you ever realize how powerful your words are
what feelings you bring forth
and, the sum of all your worth
do you ever realize how powerful your poems are?
Does your heart ever feel the feelings readers express
how do you know how they feel
after they read your verse so real
does your heart ever imagine the feelings you impress?
Have you ever seen the brilliance you deflect
what star can ever match
those lovely lyrics you unlatch
have you ever observed the light, that you reflect?
Poet, do you realize how much of you I see in me
no stars of heaven can reflect
those words you circumspect
poet can you see why I pine, for the light in thee .
February 11, 2020
Categories:
circumspect, appreciation,
Form:
Rhyme
I'm merely mortal, a speck upon Earth,
circumspect of gazing into distant heavens,
spellbound by stars staring back at me.
They inveigle my silly senses.
I strain to hear their pellucid inscriptions
that shouldn't be clear to humans,
but are transparent to me.
I personify celestial orbs, attempting to break
their astral coded whispers through galactic
places that we thought were empty spaces
between each twinkling of starlight.
They wink through invisible portals,
murmuring secrets about us
or whatever stars are interested in.
Each other? Gossipers!
What secrets do they share, or keep?
Perhaps they're more like us than we suspected.
They have names, grow old, eyes dim
and die a cosmic death. I've been wondering...
where do fallen stars go when they die?
Categories:
circumspect, stars,
Form:
Free verse
Start
Enclosed in a glass casket
Cuddled in a flower-decked basket
She lay serene as ever
No sign of her past fervor
Resting in her last abode
Before the journey by road
To her final burial site
For performing the last rite
Dignitaries came to pay their last respect
Placed a wreath, sad and circumspect
Consoled the members who were dear
To reduce their sorrow and repress a tear
She ruled the state for over a decade
Hailed as the Iron lady, never swayed
Adored by the masses, especially poor
She was the mother to all and a doer
Millions of mourners thronged the street
Wishing she was alive for them to meet
Sea of humanity surged in a melancholy state
Thumping their chests and lamenting their fate
Alas! She can’t hear their mourning cries
It’s a feeling no one can ever reprise
Slowly the coffin was lowered into the grave
The sea responded with a mighty wave.
UNSUPPORTED CODE
Categories:
circumspect, death,
Form:
Rhyme
...inspired by 'Science-Fiction Cradlesong'
by C.S. Lewis
Were we to try for heaven,
by dust and stars be riven
to lust for foreign places
where we might find strange faces,
the cost could be pre-emptive,
marginalize incentive.
In tubes of strengthened metal,
to demonstrate our mettle,
at speeds defying gravity,
(for honour or depravity?)
unknown manifestations
might try and test our patience.
Distances beyond our ken,
regions never seen by men,
from earth's fair confines to the skies,
is this judicious? ...is it wise?
Black as ink and unappealing,
drear is this infinite ceiling!
Perhaps we should be circumspect,
think twice before we genuflect,
raise space to a divinity,
but worship what we sense and see,
what price landscapes, dales and hills?
Space may aggravate our ills.
Categories:
circumspect, writing,
Form:
Verse
*** MUSINGS ***
I have grown old,
thankfully,
dragging along all my ailments,
unavoidably, it seems, but endured ~ and
graced by the frequent
florets of wisdom
adorning the rounds of circumspect musings
— those streams of sub-conscious pondering —
which then course (perhaps too much)
into my rambling soeech —
and occasionally my babbling on about dreams —
throughout whose passages, I have found
I believe
in dimensions upon dimensions of reality
wherein our thick, surrounding present
come
the symbols; geatures; motions; keys; spirits
and intuited messages —
meant to expand
any narrow notice of this life.
————————————————————————————————————————————
(c) sally young eslinger 6/18/2023
Thanks be to God
Categories:
circumspect, environment, inspirational, life, senses,
Form:
Free verse
where are your eyes in the 11th hour?
do they roam to and fro, roaring
with insipid power, baiting the hook,
fishing for retractable men?
where is your nose in the 11th hour?
is it sniffing out a cesspool of plots,
hanging with odious men by the fire,
drawing in men with deceptive smoke signals?
where is your mouth in the 11th hour?
are you rambling out rhetoric, grandiloquent smut,
smirking, curling your lip, your serpentine tongue
slithering and snapping up every adamic crumb?
where are your ears in the 11th hour?
are they trembling with vibrations of horror,
jingling change from restless legs, harkening to
every pandering pain - every wicked wile?
where is your touch in the 11th hour?
are you reddening faces, tenderizing
every black and blue artery and vein,
darkening the skin of Eve like a cancerous cloud?
~ ~ ~
in the 11th hour, her kind eyes shower,
with rainbow tears, leaping upwards,
bowed in reverent fear, insightful and wise,
vigilant and circumspect.
in the 11th hour, her nose drawn to scents,
yes of honeysuckle and baby powder
but also the downpour of the poor and sick,
attentive to the stench.
in the 11th hour, her mouth soothes
with compassion, just and good,
sensitive to worn out souls, smiling
tenderly, speaking at chosen times.
in the 11th hour, her ears ever alert,
pierced by the outcry of Eve’s children,
drawn to lilting laughs, lullabies and psalms,
anywhere a helping plea sounds.
in the 11th hour, her touch gentle and soft,
changing diapers, dusting off tears, foraging food
for her family and the lonely, handing out hugs,
midnight feet tucking in the sheets.
~ ~ ~
Indeed, the 11th hour is here,
a time where good is called bad
and bad pronounced good.
In the overcast skies,
the spread of candlelight
like stars, so mercifully bright.
As midnight strikes,
each star is gathered like wheat,
the sun and the moon fall asleep.
4/2/2019
Categories:
circumspect, christian,
Form:
Free verse
Something dreadful is reflected in this scene
Could be she's seen death in a horrid dream, or
perhaps a relapse of an affliction or addiction
has left her crestfallen, in an insentient state
with the blood of her sin dripping from her eyes.
In vines, she's entangled for having sat so long
Grieving for whatever tragedy has gone wrong.
Entwined in living vines of a scarlet rose
more alive than she appears to be.
Is it a dark disgrace she bears in this pose?
One Poe would have drawn to illustrate a poem
telling a dark tale as black ravens preen.
With iridescent wings fluttering, they hover near
plucking at an ornament worn round her neck
Cawing attention to her pox in squawking voices,
making her circumspect for being called a sinner.
Has she committed some dark dastardly deed
that's left her sitting on that garden bench
as if in widow's threads, dreading her crime
and praying Mea Culpas for forgiveness?
Forlorn she sits, weary from existence,
oblivious to the avian souls. Do they guard her
or are they being persistent in cawing her shame?
Has she been the victim of some abysmal crime?
What horror must be kept secreted in her mind
and what keeps her kohled eyes closed as if blind?
Don't ask the black bird for he has sworn allegiance
Nevermore would he tell the tale of it all as she falls
ever deeper into the madness that has left her cold.
Aa alabaster statue on a garden bench.
Is she missing her beloved when he was claimed by death
or a wench who in an act of jealousy killed her lover?
The sin committed in passion is a mortal blunder and more...
A flaw in the heart of one Poe would never call Lenore.
Categories:
circumspect, betrayal, dark, death,
Form:
Elegy
I Torment Not As This Great Reward- The Villanelle Of The Award
I couldn't stop praising within the award
It was just so light also wonderful
Never had he known anything so on-board
That morning, I was shocked by the Lord
He had to calm Himself with an effect
I couldn't stop thinking about the award
Later, I was shook by a reward
I tried to focus on a neglect
Never had I known anything so on-board
As this great Reward
I tried to distract Him with a hoard
Sin laden by me mind had become too subject
I couldn't stop thinking about the award
Never had I known anything so on-board
As this great Reward
I took action like a cord
The award was becoming too circumspect was such a fool
Never had he known anything so on-board
I's demise was bored
His mind turned into a project
I couldn't stop thinking about the award
Never had he known anything so on-board
Never had I known anything so on-board-as my salvation
As this great Reward
1/3/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
Categories:
circumspect, analogy, appreciation, celebration, forgiveness,
Form:
Villanelle